


Caught a Ghost

by violetsareblonde



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2018-03-06 11:52:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3133448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violetsareblonde/pseuds/violetsareblonde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I take a deep, unneeded breath, and turn towards the mirror, hoping to see myself. Instead, there is nothing there. No reflection. No me." What does it mean to be dead? What does it mean to be a ghost?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ghost

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I really don't own this. After years and years of this shit you would think they'd know that by now...
> 
> Author's Note: Hello, my lovers! Mayhaps I should be updating other stories instead of starting new ones, but I really liked this story and it's been floating around in my head for awhile so I thought I would post a preliminary chapter and see if everyone else thought it was as good as I did. So, please have a read and let me know your thoughts. And as always, enjoy...:)

_Caught a Ghost_

Chapter One:

Ghost

* * *

 

" _Stop acting like this. You're being crazy?" I shake my head as I continue to move towards the stairs, the only way out of the house from the top floor. The door will be my sanctuary, the clothes in my suitcase the costume of my escape, but I have to make it out of his grip and down the stairs to reach it. "I said to stop."_

_The hand around the back of my collar pulls tightly and I fall backwards, my body rushing into the arms of my attacker. I struggle, but he knows me too well and he knows the way my body struggles. "Get off of me or I'll," I sputter but he spins me around, pinning my much smaller body to the wall._

" _Or you'll what? That little wand of yours is lying broken on the floor. You think you can hurt me?" I look into the eyes that are so similar to my own. The same dark green irises, the same dilating pupils. His mouth curls into a cruel smile, and I wonder if I twitch my lips if mine will do the same._

" _I can still do magic without it." I'm bluffing and he knows it. He takes a moment to laugh at my accusation, releasing me slightly. I take my opportunity to push away, scrambling towards the stairs. He reaches out for me, and I rush forward. He grabs for my leg and I trip._

_The floor comes rushing up at me and I feel my head hit the first stair with astounding force. The stars that rush over my vision blind me, blinking black and white as I feel my body tumbling. I hear a crack as my hand smashes against the marble, and I roll faster. When my momentum stops, I'm lying at the bottom of the stairs. My suitcase lies a meter in front of me, next to the door. If I stand and run, I can make it out of the house._

_My body doesn't move. There's something wet dripping over my hair, into my eyes and lips. My father calls out to me from the top of the stairs but I can't move; I can't speak or breathe. I hear the footsteps, and I close my eyes, hoping that pretending to sleep will keep him away from me._

_The footsteps stop and I can no longer open my eyes. And I realize, I'm dying._

I wake up, feeling lighter than I have in months. I gather myself off the ground and feel my forehead. It doesn't feel lacerated or marred in anyway, and I wonder if I imagined falling down the stairs or if it was a dream. I know for a fact that there was blood in my mouth, although at the moment it seems to be fine, no tale tell taste of rust. There's crying from somewhere near me, and I walk forward.

My father is on the stairs, looking blankly at a spot on the floor while tears openly fall from his eyes. "Dad?" I ask, not understanding. He ignores me. I walk over to him and place my hand on his shoulder, but it doesn't connect, like a barrier has been put between our flesh. I try again with the same result. When I look at my hands, there's nothing wrong. I still see the pale white flesh that I always have seen. Except, I realize, that my nails are now nude and they were definitely painted green before I fell.

An unsettling feeling begins in the pit of my stomach, and I kneel down in front of my father again. "Dad, please?" I beg, but he continues to ignore me, like I'm not even there. His eyes remain on the spot behind me and I know what I will find if I turn around. Things start to click into place. It wasn't all a dream.

There is a bloody handprint on the wall of the staircase, crimson streaking down the marble steps. My father's face has a deep scratch on the side I had lashed out at. I take a deep breath, realizing I haven't been breathing this whole time and I close my eyes, slowly turning around.

A crumpled body lies on the ground; it's mine, I realize, or at least it was. The strawberry blonde hair is now a darker shade of red, blood pooling in the tresses as they spread across the floor. My left arm is bent in a strange way, and I stretch out my arm now, still intact and unharmed. The blood on my face is drying, peeling away but there are tear tracks through the red, and I touch my face, but it's dry as well.

I finally understand that I'm dead. The body is me.

My knees buckle beneath me as I sink to the ground next to my dead body. My mind drifts, trying to understand what is going on, why I'm still here when clearly the person on the ground so close in front of me is no longer alive. My eyes try to meet my father's but he looks right through me. We sit in silence for what feels like hours, but it could only be minutes.

How do you measure time when you're dead?

My hands rest on my jean clad knees; the tight denim is clean though the knees of the body in front of me are bloody and torn. My short brown boots are laced and zipped and unscuffed as well. The short-sleeved red t-shirt I'm wearing seems to be the same as before, not sticky or stained like the body in front of me. My hair feels clean, my face feels unscathed, but I know that I'm dead.

There's movement across from me as my father stands up and walks towards the kitchen. I stand, almost without realizing it, and make my way after him. No sound comes from my feet, and I know that even if I jumped up and down, if I threw plates and cups and smashed into things, I would remain silent. I wonder if I'll ever speak to someone again, or if it will just be me and my voice unanswered forever.

What does it mean to be a ghost?

My father reaches for the phone, placing his hand up to touch the bloody scratch on his cheek as he catches sight of his reflection in the window above the sink. I stand behind him, hoping to see my own reflection but there is nothing there. As he dials the numbers on the telephone, I make my way out of the kitchen. I cross away from the body on the floor, the large puddle of blood that is slicking the marble floor, and I walk through the living room into the bathroom.

My hands won't touch the handle, so I walk forward, hoping that something will happen and that I'll be able to enter the room even when my hands won't work. I hit the door with a thud, feeling it reverberate through my body. I try again, more deliberate this time, and I feel the wood give some, and then I'm sinking through like it's made of soft sand. When I open my eyes, I'm standing in the bathroom. I take a deep, unneeded breath, and turn towards the mirror, hoping to see myself.

Instead, there is nothing there.

No reflection.

No me.

* * *

 


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It feels so much larger when alone, I note first and foremost, and the second thing I notice is that Hogwarts seems to be asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all immensely for the hits and the first read through that you've given me. I hope you continue to enjoy the story, as I continue to enjoy writing it for you. Thank you, truly. :)

My funeral isn’t exactly what I expect it to be. 

First of all, I didn’t think that I would be watching my body be lowered into the ground at the age of 17. Second, I didn’t think that I would be standing directly next to the guests at my funeral, a measly six people including my father, my grandmother, my best friend, a priest, and two of the gravediggers. 

At first, I plead with my father to see me. I beg my grandmother to open her eyes and stop looking through me. I ask Riley to hear me, to stop looking at my casket and believing that I’m stuck inside, gone from the world. Nothing results from my pleading, and so I stand opposite of the grave and watch as they lower my casket into the ground. 

Riley’s bloodshot dark blue eyes remain in my own eyesight long after my father, his cheek bandaged and his record clean after lying to the police about how I fell, has left. She sits in the folding chair that is sitting by my headstone, watching as my grave fills with dirt. She tucks her long black hair behind her ear, wiping away the last of the mascara from her eyes. 

“Please, Rye,” I whisper, knowing she won’t hear me. Her eyes glance around, wandering over my standing figure. I realize she won’t see me, won’t listen to me, won’t laugh at my jokes, pick out my clothes, or gossip with me ever again. My fists clench of their own accord while I grind my jaw tightly to keep the tears from springing into my eyes. 

Riley says nothing, as the last of the dirt is placed upon my chestnut coffin which contains my cleaned up and dressed body. She looks down at her pocket, pulling something small out. I see the glint of the chain, recognizing the small “best friends” charm on the necklace we gave bought for each other for Christmas three years ago. We’d vowed that night that we would be best friends forever, no matter what happened.

I can’t help the whimper that escapes my mouth as she drapes the chain over my headstone, touching her hand to my carved name, and then with silent tears on her face, walks away from the cemetery towards the car that waits for her on the road. My face burns with the salt from my tears as I walk over and trace my finger just above the locket. 

I know my fingers won’t touch the cool metal, but I long to touch it anyway. My legs slowly crumble beneath me, and I unceremoniously collapse under the darkening sky, watching as the tears that drip from my eyes disappear before they touch the ground. I’m a ghost of a dead girl; and I know, it would be easier if I could just disappear as well. 

\--

I end up outside of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry; the only place I know that contains ghosts of all sorts. Although, if I’m perfectly honest with myself, I’m not sure how I got here. The last thing I actually remember was laying on the newly turned dirt at my gravesite, closing my eyes and trying to think of a solution to my problem. The next thing I know my feet are pulling me up a path towards a large gate that I have had the fortune of seeing every year for the past six years. 

The gate is shut, but as I walk towards it, my boots making no footprint in the mud, the gate swings open of its own accord. I take a deep breath, feeling something stir in the pit of my stomach that feels a lot like relief. I send up a silent prayer to whatever god is out there for the invention of magic. It strikes me as funny that when I was alive I would often do that; praise whatever god I had chosen to believe in that day. But now, as a ghost or a spirit or whatever it was that I am, I wonder if there could actually be a god. And if there was, did that mean that I could now communicate with him or her directly?

Things to think about later, I conclude, while making my way up to the large castle. I walk past the Quidditch field, and the first light of hope begins to filter into my mind. Hogwarts is a place of magic, is a place that has always felt like home to me when I couldn’t have my life at my own home. And best of all, Hogwarts was home to the most powerful and genius-level wizard I had ever heard of: Albus Dumbledore. If he couldn’t help me, then I was afraid no one else could. 

I reach the castle doors, the Great Hall standing just steps in front of me, and I wonder for the first time since I’ve arrived at the castle just how to approach all of this. Do I knock on the door? If I knock on the door will anyone be able to hear it? Will my hand go right through? Should I just dissolve through the door as I’ve discovered I can?

I decide to take the most normal approach, stepping up to the enormous doors and knocking on them. As I suspect it will, my hand slides right through the wood without making contact. I pull myself back, the feeling of sliding through a solid object not one that I’ll be able to get used to for quite some time, and I cross my arms in front of my chest. Deciding against trying to knock a second time, I grit my teeth and push myself through the door to the castle, feeling the magic held within the wood sink into my ethereal body.

Stranger than anything I’ve felt before, the magic courses through me, making goose bumps appear on my arms, my fingernails tingle, and my toes curl. It’s pure, unadulterated magic housed within the walls and doors and every stone in between, and it feels like I have the power to do anything. But the feeling leaves me as I push out through into the entrance hall, and I feel the sudden jolt of nothingness once again. 

Although being aware of my body and its movements had never been something that I truly wanted to think too deeply on when I was alive, now that I was a ghost, or something of the sort, I wished to be able to feel myself bump a doorway, or feel the fullness of my feet hitting the ground. I turn my thoughts away from the depressing direction they are taking, and I do a small turn around the amazingly large entrance hall.

It feels so much larger when alone, I note first and foremost, and the second thing I notice is that Hogwarts seems to be asleep. It’s as if the castle itself is sleeping, gathering its strength for when the students arrive and it must perform for its guests once again; where it must unfold secret doorways, tapestries that lead to forbidden hideouts, and open its deepest self to hundreds of children eager for knowledge. 

I move forward, towards the stairway, and I pause again. Knocking hadn’t worked, but I had felt the magic in the school. I know what it can do. So maybe, if I allow myself to hope, calling out into the quiet would rouse someone into recognizing my presence? At least I could trouble the Bloody Barron to take a break to lead me to Dumbledore? 

I clear my throat, clenching my fists together as I quietly utter, “Anyone there?” I shake my head at myself, knowing that wouldn’t be loud enough for someone right next to me to hear. Biting down on my lip, I contemplate my courage and realize just why I was sorted into Ravenclaw and not Gryffindor – my smarts greatly outweighed my meager courage. Do it, I hear my mind scream at me, and so I open my mouth the second time, taking in a deep breath and letting my voice rise. “Hello? Is anybody there?” My voice feels like it reverberates off the walls, down the corridors and into the confines of the quiet castle. I feel my confidence rise and I yell again. “Please, can someone help me?”

There is no answer at first, and I start to panic. If no one can see me, then no one can help me. I don’t want to be doomed to walk the earth alone and unseen for the rest of my ghostly existence. Then, out of the corner or my eye, a figure moves in the darkness. I pause the pacing I didn’t remember starting and wait for it to approach. 

“Hello?” I utter, timidness seeping into my voice, and I pray that whoever it is can hear me and see me. When no response comes, my heart begins to race, my eyes peering deeper into the darkness. There is no more movement, and then, without warning, she appears directly in front of me. A startled gasp escapes me, the squeaking bounding off the walls in a cacophony of embarrassment. 

“You’re the Grey Lady,” I realize, taking a small step back to fully see the woman in front of me. She looks at me with a calculating stare, taking in my appearance, or lack of solidness, and then meets my eyes with a sharp gaze. 

“You are a ghost.” She states, nothing surprised in her voice. She is soft-spoken, but a commanding presence, and I note that her eyes look sad; unlike any I have seen on any of the other ghosts. I remember the stories, about why she is never seen, and I wonder what it is about me that made her come from her hiding spot, and then I realize she is still looking at me like she knows more than she lets out. “You are a student, are you not?”

“I am, or was, I guess,” I realize that my voice is pitching, rising and falling in excitement. She can see me. She can actually see me. “I died, obviously, and then I came back, but no one can see me and I can’t touch or feel anything and I didn’t have a place to go so I came here. But I’m not really sure what I’m doing and you’re the first person I’ve talked to in ages and,” I pause my ranting as she turns away, walking daintily up the staircase and not looking back. I watch as she continues and then speak. “Uhm, where are you going?”

Unaware that I am doing so, I start to fade slightly as I think about whether or not I have disappeared from her view. Then, she speaks, reassuring me. “I am taking you to Dumbledore. It is why you came, is it not?” She doesn’t turn around, only continues to stride away from me, and I take a moment before racing after her, climbing the stairs and skipping the trick step by habit. I wonder if I can now step on it without getting caught in its wood. A question to answer later, I think, as I notice the Grey Lady disappearing around a corner. 

We make our way through the empty corridors, past sleeping portraits on the wall, and I realize that for the very first time since I came to Hogwarts six years ago, that I haven’t had to pause for breath or gotten tired during our trek. Dying hasn’t been easy, but I realize that perhaps it does have a perk. I’m smiling slightly to myself when I realize that we’ve stopped in front of the omnipresent Gargoyle that guards Dumbledore’s office. 

It springs to life as the Grey Lady clears her throat. “I need to speak with Professor Dumbledore.” There is no please, no question in her voice, only a command that the Gargoyle can do nothing but follow. It moves aside, and the winding staircase appears. 

My heart begins to race against my chest as we near the top of the stairs. My palms feel damp and nervousness begins to color my vision. If Dumbledore doesn’t help me, I’ll have nowhere left to go, I realize, and that pressure feels enormous against my throat. The Grey Lady reaches up and knocks on the door, her knuckles making solid contact with the wood. Envy runs into my veins. And then as I begin to lose faith in ever finding a solution to my death, a voice rings out from the other side, one that immediately sets my feelings at ease. 

“Come in.”


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing except for the OC, and even then she has a mind of her own so I can’t really own her either. 
> 
> Author’s Note: Hello, all! Sorry for the delay in chapters. Sometimes life catches up to me and says something along the lines of ‘work, work, work,’ instead of ‘play, play, play.’ Anywho, here is chapter 3 of Ghost where we learn the name of the OC at last and get to learn some of the rules of the ethereal world. As always, your thoughts are appreciated! Thanks to all who reviewed, and of course, please enjoy. :)

I follow the Grey Lady as she enters Dumbledore’s office. The door stays open and I realize with some humor that this is the first door I’ve passed through while it’s been open in the last week that I’ve been a ghost. The relief of not having to pass through the wood makes me want to cry. As the Grey Lady approaches, Dumbledore looks over his half-moon glasses and his eyes widen imperceptibly. I don’t know what to say, so I stay silent, waiting for him to say something instead. 

“I must say Miss Alexander, not many students have passed through my door in such an interesting manner.” At the gaping of my mouth and the tears in my eyes, Dumbledore seems to come to a conclusion. “This must be the first encounter with a person of the living persuasion, is it not?”

“You can see me?” My voice wavers, and I don’t know exactly what to do. Should I stand closer? Should I break down into tears? I settle for closing my shaking hands into fists so that he cannot see them trembling. 

“Indeed I can, dear girl. Please, come and have a seat.” He motions to the chair in front of his desk, and I eye it warily before stepping forward. The Grey Lady offers me a miniscule upturn of her lips, and then slowly disappears out of the office. 

“I don’t think I can sit, sir. I have a bad habit of sinking through the chair.” I cast my eyes away from his, glancing around at the portraits on the wall that are now staring at my ghostly form and Dumbledore’s human one. Shame fills me slightly, wondering why even in death I feel useless. 

Dumbledore stands and walks over to the corner of the room. I watch, just noticing the Phoenix that is perched on a small swinging cage. Dumbledore strokes the crimson feathers, and the bird nuzzles his hand in return. “How long have you been dead, Miss Alexander?” 

My breath falters, and it feels like something is piercing into my chest at the word dead. Every time I have thought about it since falling down the stairs, I ignore the word, not letting it have any hold over me. However, when someone else says it, it feels all too real, and I feel myself starting to drift. If possible, it seems like my form gets lighter, until I am invisible to even myself. I start to panic, feeling bile rise in my throat though I know that it’s impossible. 

I start to look around, and the room spins faster, almost as if it too is disappearing from my vision. Darkness begins to overtake me and then, almost as if I’ve walked into the lights of an oncoming train at night, a bright light shines in my eyes. 

“Gwenevieve.” A firm voice calls my name, and I blink my eyes rapidly, clearing them of the light and the darkness until, finally, I am standing back in Dumbledore’s office, a ghost but visible, it seems, once again. “Please, sit down my dear.” I follow Dumbledore’s voice, sitting without hesitation. 

“What happened?” I ask, unsure of what is happening but feeling shaky and entirely off balance. 

“As a ghost it is essential that you remember at all times that you may not be wholly alive but a part of yourself lives on. When you let that slip away, you fade.” He motions at me to look at myself and I do. My jeans and brown boots are the same as they were the night I died, as is my red t-shirt. My hands and arms are visible again, and by shaking my head I can feel my long hair as it brushes against my back. 

“If I fade will that mean the end of, whatever this is?” I ask, unsure of if I want to know the answer. If I can fade away with such ease, why haven’t I actually died fully?

“This part of you that lives on, the ethereal part, will remain but in an altered state that will, I’m afraid, consume you and drive you mad.” I feel my eyes widen and fill with tears, and Dumbledore lowers his glasses to meet my eyes without interruption. “You must fight the fade, Gwenevieve, for the sake of your sanity.”

I swallow down the panic again, taking a deep breath and nodding at the headmaster who looks entirely too relaxed about the whole situation. “How can you see me?”

Dumbledore smiles, and clasps his hands together. “Hogwarts possess a certain kind of magic, one that makes things appear when they have altogether disappeared.”

“So everyone will be able to see me then? When school starts again?” My hope rises, thinking of seeing Riley again. I can convince her that I’m not dead, tell her the real story, have her talk to me again. I know that hope is shining from my eyes like a beacon, but Dumbledore’s smile does not mirror my own. 

“There are two things to remember about your ethereal life, Miss Alexander. A ghost can only be seen if one is made to believe in the ghost; and until you believe in your ability to do something you will not be able to achieve it.” He motions to where I am sitting. “For example, you are sitting perfectly in the chair without falling through because you believe that you can do it. You can touch this desk with your hands, should you believe that you can do it.”

I realize that what he is saying is true. I could walk up the stairs and through the gate at the school because I knew that I could do it. I could sit in the chair without thinking because it made sense in that moment. I gather my inner strength and move to place my hand on the desk. While I do so, I think of all the times in the past that I have been able to do it, and when my hand reaches the dark wood, I feel it underneath my palm, without sinking through the wood. 

As my fingers grip the hard wood, I feel something settle inside of me that seem more solid, like it’s anchoring me in place. I feel less like floating away and more like an actual being. “Does this mean I will be able to open the door now? And touch people?” 

“Should you believe that you might do it, then yes. However, when it comes to living beings, unless they believe in you as a ghost, they will only feel the whisper of your touch, making it seem like an act of wind, or a sudden shiver. Until they believe that you exist, they will not be able to feel or see you.” Dumbledore responds, watching again as the hope flares and wanes in my eyes. 

“But that’s a start,” I say, refusing to be pushed down again. “How then, Headmaster, can you see me? Please.” I say because it feels like I am demanding something of Dumbledore, who deserves nothing if not my respect. 

“Certain magical beings, werewolves, giants, and others, will be able to see things that the average witch or wizard will not see. I happen to be one of the few that find it easier to see the ethereal.” My head nods as I remember this piece of information. Dumbledore is an extraordinary wizard, holding within him a special kind of magic that gives him power beyond what many will ever achieve. 

For the first time in a week, I begin to feel tired, wondering what it would be like to sleep again. As if sensing this, Dumbledore stands and without my expecting it, takes my hand. My eyes open wide, as I feel his flesh meet mine. His hand feels warm, warmer than I can ever remember a person feeling, and I look up into his eyes, able to feel some sort of power rushing through him. 

“Thank you,” I tell him as I feel the tears begin to drip from my eyes. They make no marks as they fall from my cheeks to the floor, and I am reminded that even through all of this, I am still a ghost. 

“You are welcome to stay in the castle as long as you like, Miss Alexander. Please feel free to make Hogwarts your permanent home on your journey.” I nod; clearing my throat and Dumbledore pats my hand before releasing it. I stand, and move towards the door, realizing that I have no clue where to go after this. As if sensing this, Dumbledore says from behind me, “The Room of Requirements is a good place to start.”

I turn to give him a small smile, moving towards the door and reaching for the handle. The brass meets my fingers, and I feel myself strengthening. I resolve to myself as I pull the door open to remember that I may not be alive but that I’m not dead. I walk down the stairs and listen to the portraits in Dumbledore’s office erupt to life as the door closes behind me.


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Not a fan of costume parties?” I continue to look over the table, until my eyes meet a pair of golden orbs and I realize that the man dressed as a vampire next to me is actually speaking to me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own naught which you recognize.
> 
> Author’s Note: Okay, first it’s been a year since I updated and I’d like to have an excuse for that, but I really don’t other than the fact that I’ve got a full-time job to stress me out, and bills to pay, and I just don’t get inspired like I use to! But, here I am, back at you with hope and love in my eyes, that you’ll accept me like you always have. I promise to be better to you this time around! Second, this chapter goes fast, like we’re covering two months here! The next chapter, however, will be slower, as the meat of the story will really begin in chapter 5! So, without further ado, Chapter Four!

I meet my first ghost while I’m walking through the Room of Requirements. The Gray Lady dropped me here before she left for the Ravenclaw Tower, and I’m stuck trying to decide on what room I’d like to call my own for, well, ever. There is a slight crash, and I jump, fading slightly in visibility while a loud voice starts to curse a suit of armor. 

“Excuse me?” I call out, trying to make my presence known. The man looks up, seemingly startled that anyone is talking to him, and he beams while straightening. I notice that he’s carrying something stuffed deep into a shoulder bag, looking for everything I know like a head. I grimace and look back to the ghost in front of me. 

“Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, at your very esteemed service, madam.” He bows down, and I can’t control my gasp as his head comes flying from his shoulders towards the floor. It doesn’t fall completely off, and I’m left looking straight at the spinal cord and the muscles that surround it. I feel like I’m about to faint, and I realize that my breathing has become strained. 

“Are you quite alright?” I ask quickly as he straightens, nudging his head back onto his shoulders with a quick jerk. He gives me another smile, then pats the bag next to him, almost like a reminder to himself. This time, I definitely notice a shock of coal black hair hanging out of the satchel. 

“Well, I’m dead and with my head still mostly attached so I would say I’m quite fine, my dear. Now that you know my name, I’m quite interested in knowing yours.” He clasps his hands behind his back, looking at me expectantly.

“Gweneveive Alexander; I’m a student here at Hogwarts.” He looks at me skeptically and I refocus myself. “Was a student here.” I motion down my ethereal body, and then shrug my shoulders. “I died.”

“Yes, that I can see. Well, at least you still have your head.” He grins slyly, but stiffens as the sounds of horse’s hooves echo in the room. “I must be off, Gweneveive Alexander, but may we meet again!” He takes off at a sprint, holding close to the bag on his hip, and I watch in amazement as a large black stallion carrying a head-less knight rides by, making my hair ruffle in the wind he produces. It finally clicks that Sir Nicholas is the famous Nearly Headless Nick, Gryffindor’s house ghost, and one that I had never met before this. 

I sigh to myself as the excitement wanes, and I long for a comfortable armchair to rest in, though I don’t truly feel like sleeping. Suddenly, the room transforms into a small, but cozy room resembling the one I lived in growing up. My eyes tear up as I see the teddy bear that I had had since childhood sitting on a large tufted armchair next to a large fire place that hadn’t originally been there. 

Sitting, I grab the bear in my arms, holding tight and using my willpower to keep it in my hands. Then I close my eyes as the fire warmed me. I had learned that I would never truly sleep as a ghost; that when I close my eyes, it’s almost as if my soul drifts in and out of the corporeal world and into that of the pure ethereal. It is a strange feeling, but seemed to keep me from becoming truly crazy. 

The days pass quickly, and I learn more from the many ghosts around the castle, each night returning to the Room of Requirements, a place had I seemingly claimed as my own when I arrived at the castle. Hogwarts without students was boring, and I spent my days wishing for a time when I had things to fulfill myself. When I could meet Riley at the park and lounge in the sun, gossiping about our other classmates, and keeping an eye out for any attractive muggles that might be out. 

My second meeting with Dumbledore comes directly before school is set to begin. I am called to his office where I find myself face to face with my old head of house. Professor Flitwick stares directly through me, and I pass my hand in front of his face to see if he will react. The headmaster eyes my actions with a slight twinkle in his eyes, and then slides a picture across the desk to Flitwick. 

“Ms. Alexander has joined us now, Filius, so if you would be so kind as to have a look at this picture.” Flitwick does as he says without hesitation, and when he next looks up around the room, he is staring directly at me. 

“Gwen,” He says with surprise, and I find myself smiling at the smaller man, trying to contain my excitement at being seen again. 

“Professor,” I say, my voice thick with emotion. 

“Gwen, Filius will be your guide at Hogwarts while school is in session, for those times when I am unreachable. Should you need anything at all, he will be there for you.” I nod at Dumbledore, holding onto the arm of the chair in excitement. Someone else that I will be able to have a conversation with; a real person, not just another ghost. 

When the meeting ends, I find myself walking with the bane of most students’ existence at Hogwarts, Peeves. While the friendship was at first him providing me with false information about all things ghostly, over the month I had resided at the castle, we have become fast friends. “Gwendy,” He wines, and I glance over at his floating form. I have yet to master the art of floating, or flying, as most ghosts in the castle do. Every time I tried, it was as if something was weighing me back to the ground. Part of me wanted to believe that it was my human-ness trying to return to my body, but the other part of me knew that I was dead, and in all likelihood, would stay that way.

“Yes?” I keep my answer simple; while Peeves was my friend, he would just as soon make fun of me by mimicking my voice as he would actually ask me a question.

“What will you do when the students return tomorrow? It takes some time for the students to believe in you,” He pauses, floating a little higher while he thought. “Though that might not be a good thing seeing as you’re actually one of them.” 

“I know.” I close my eyes, taking a deep breath that flows through my ghostly body like it’s leaking out of my pores, and I think hard. There is a ghost in the castle that I befriended, that lives in the dungeons. She was killed long ago by a fellow student that was accidentally practicing charms she shouldn’t have been practicing. Her name was Mary, and though she was killed in the early years of Hogwarts’ founding, she despised not being able to keep up with the fashion and the times. She had taught me, early on when she found me wandering the castle alone at all hours of the night, how to change my ghostly appearance. I hadn’t mastered the full extent of her teachings yet, but I could do small things. 

When I open my eyes, I am wearing a thick jumper instead of my tee shirt. As a ghost, my body is never actually cold, but the act of tucking my hands into my sleeves is a comforting one, even though I feel nothing from it. Peeves is floating ahead of me, talking along like he didn’t realize I had fallen behind. “You should see them from my perspective. They never know you’re there unless you want them to know, and they get into quite a bit of trouble when they don’t know,” I hurry to catch up, pausing with him as we stand in front of the door to my lair. 

“Do you only ever think about those boys?” I ask, having heard the story numerous times. Peeves blows a raspberry at me, and flies away, cackling to himself. I continue my walk, pausing to look out over the grounds of the castle. Everyone inside seems to be vibrating with excitement about the students coming back, but all I feel is trepidation. 

I’m standing in the Entrance hall when the doors swing open, revealing students and teachers alike, all rushing inside like they’re coming home after a long absence. I hold the breath I don’t need deep in my dead lungs as I catch a shock of curly black hair and mocha skin. Riley walks right past me, and I reach for her, though nothing connects. She seems to shake off anything she might have felt, almost like a sudden gush of wind had touched only her. I curl my arms about myself, retreating back to my rooms, feeling cold tears leak from my eyes. 

I follow Riley sometimes, when there is nothing else to do. She fields questions about my death, although there aren’t many who ask. She makes new friends in the other girls in our dorms, having nights in where they gossip about boys, and the going-ons in the social hierarchy of seventh year. I sit on the edge of the bed with them, listening, missing the days when I could have joined in. 

Peeves notices my sadness while we’re stalking the Marauders one day, and I stick to the shadows even though I know they can’t see me. I watch the tall, thin brunette that Riley blushes at the name of, and wonder what it is that she finds so attractive in his scarred face. I realize that had I still been alive, I probably would have teased her about him, though now when I look closer, he is handsome in a different kind of way. 

“What’s got you down, Lady Gwen?” Peeves laughs at what he assumes to be a clever joke. He’s taken to calling me ‘Lady’ as soon as he realizes my name is a play on Genevieve and King Arthur. I stifle my urge to yell at him, having heard these many jokes my whole life, and keep my eyes on the people ahead of us. 

The Quidditch Captain in glasses looks up, but his friend, shorter in height by about an inch, and slightly more muscled, brushes his long black hair out of his eyes and mutters something about it just being Peeves. “Keep your voice down, you lummox.” I whisper, and Peeves just laughs louder.

“Don’t be so upset about being a ghost, little Gwen, otherwise you’ll float off into the abyss, and then where would we be in our lessons?” He cackles again, swooping down to knock the glasses off the tall Marauder. James, I repeat to myself, James Potter.

The lessons he’s talking about are my education in all things Marauders. The poor ghost is obsessed with these boys, and had I not realized that Peeves’ penchant for mischief had never been fulfilled in real life, I would have been annoyed. But it was fun to have something to do during the day, when the doldrums of ghostly life became too much. I couldn’t spend my whole time following Riley around; I was starting to feel like I was haunting her. 

I edge closer, not having mastered flying anywhere as high as Peeves could, and listen while the boys tell Peeves to bugger off. They’re huddling over what appears to be a very old piece of parchment, and I stop in my tracks as the one Peeves refers to as Messer Black turns to look directly at me. My breath catches in my throat, but he turns to look back at the parchment without having seen me. 

“I think the map is buggered, Prongs. I’ve never heard of this chick in my life, and yet, here she is on our map, standing less than a meter behind us.” He runs his hand through his hair, and my eyes widen. How had I not realized that they were holding the infamous Marauder’s map? And I couldn’t believe that I showed up on it. Hope springs into my heart, until I realize that unless they believed I existed, they would never truly see me. 

Waving quickly to Peeves, I walk away, trying again to find some sort of hope in being a ghost. 

It’s Halloween, and I’m following Riley and her friends to the Room of Requirements, that has been taken over for the night by the Marauder’s, preparing for a Halloween party of epic proportions. Riley is dressed like a witch, laughing at the irony of it. I had played a small part in her costume change, having knocked the window into the room open and spilling an entire vat of nail polish onto her ‘sexy cat’ costume. We would have never gone as scantily clad as her new friends, and though Riley occasionally wrote in her journal about missing me, she had stopped bringing me up at sleepovers. 

I felt that, if she was going to slowly become a new person, I still wanted to occasionally see my old best friend. It was selfish of me, because Riley wouldn’t see me again, unless I could convince her I was still here, but there was a part of me that wanted to hold onto something. I didn’t want to just slink into the shadows and be a ghost with only ghost friends for the rest of my life. 

They enter the party, and I watch as she and the other seventh years went to the dance floor, squealing as they meet other party goers. James Potter and Sirius Black are holding court in the middle, and they wink at the new girls, James sneaking glances every few moments to Lily Evans over in the corner with a Gryffindor boy I didn’t know. 

I walk to the table off to the side, looking envious of all the different party wares spaced on the table in front of me. I’d kill for a sugar quill, and I’m looking at it with longing when I hear a voice from next to me. 

“Not a fan of costume parties?” I continue to look over the table, until my eyes meet a pair of golden orbs and I realize that the man dressed as a vampire next to me is actually speaking to me. 

“Sorry?” I say, breathless, and he laughs. 

“It’s just you’re not wearing a costume.” He grins and reaches across me, grabbing the sugar quill I had been eying. 

And it’s then that I realize that this boy, Remus Lupin, is looking right at me, not through me, and he’s smiling at me, and talking to me. 

And he sees me.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Uh, I don’t know what ‘her’ you’re referring to, mate. Did someone slip you those weird mushrooms Lovegood was toting around earlier?” Black was looking at Remus with caution, who was still staring at the space I occupied. As he turned to call towards Potter, thinking Remus had been slipped psychoactive drugs, I faced Remus fully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I wish I owned all these lovely characters, but I don’t. In fact, I only own Gwen, and the computer I’m writing on. 
> 
> Author’s Note: So, I’ve just got to say thank you to all my lovely readers and reviewers! You all stick with me even when it takes me 5 months to update. BUT I’ve promised myself to write more and get back into the swing of things to take me away from the stress that life can provide, so hopefully you’ll be seeing me a lot more! Anywho, I hope you enjoy this next chapter, which is a bit longer than my last few, with a lot more content that before! I’m a little worried that Remus is a bit out of character, but I’m hoping to get more into the swing of things and help that along. I’m interested to know your thoughts, so if you’d like, drop me a review and let me know what you’re thinking! If not, I’m just happy you’re giving the story a chance and reading along with us! 
> 
> Also, I’ve decided to pursue this story in a past tense way rather than present, to keep myself from jumping around tense wise, which I noticed I was doing in the last chapter. So, things will continue in past tense from here on out! 
> 
> Right-o, on to the story!!

\--

“So,” I watched as Remus smiles nervously, scratching at his neck with the hand that isn’t holding the sugar quill. “Are you okay? It’s just that you’re not really talking and you’re kind of looking at me like you’re going to run away at any moment.”

I wiped my dry hands on my jeans, realizing that they weren’t sweaty at the moment, but I had I still been alive they would have been. Remus Lupin was standing in front of me, looking at me with apprehension. He was talking to me, looking directly at me, seeing me, and I was standing here like I’d never seen a person in my life. 

“I’m fine.” I blurted out right before he had written me off and turned to move away. He sent me a more concrete smile, a small blush staining his cheeks. I felt my own darken in response. “I’m Gwen.”

“Remus Lupin, though I guess you know that seeing as you’re at this party.” His blush deepened, and I realized that he meant it, not in the same cocky way as Potter or Black did, but in a way that said, ‘don’t focus your attention on me, the others are right over there.’

“Yeah, I guess you and your friends are hard to miss.” I said, trying hard to think of a way to keep Remus here, to keep him talking to me. I had no idea how he could see me, or why since he didn’t even know me, but he was the first alive person I’d talked to in ages that was my own age, and I was desperate for the contact if only for a bit longer. “It’s a really great party.” 

“Thanks,” Remus finished off his sweet, and then put his hands in the pocket of his pants. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I feel like I’ve seen you before. Although, I don’t think we’ve ever been introduced.” He looked at me a little harder, and for a moment I felt like disappearing, although I caught myself before I could go transparent. I focused a little harder on remaining in the ‘alive’ world. 

I also hoped beyond hope that Remus wouldn’t piece two and two together and realize that I was the girl that died over summer. I knew he was partners with Riley in Charms class, and they often practiced spells together in the library, but I couldn’t remember if they’d ever talked about me. Realizing Remus was staring again, and I wasn’t responding, I shook myself back into action. 

“I tend to keep to myself. I’m sure we’ve probably seen each other in passing.” I smiled at him, and he nodded. I was about to ask him a subtle question like ‘hey how can you see me when I’m a ghost and we’ve never even met before’ when I felt the air behind me stir. Turning to look over my shoulder, I saw Sirius Black pouring another cup of spiked punch into his goblet. He didn’t acknowledge me, instead turning to look directly at his friend. 

“Moony, what’re you over here mumbling to yourself?” I turned so that I was standing between the two bots, back some so I wasn’t directly in Remus’ line of sight anymore. Remus tracked me with his eyes, and then looked at Black with a bewildered expression.

“Look, Pads, I know you can be thick sometimes, but it’s not nice to ignore someone that’s right in front of you.” Remus sent me an apologetic look, and Black followed his line of sight and then looked back at his friend with confusion written all over his gray eyes. 

“I don’t want to alarm you, Remus, but I think you’re going a bit bonkers. There’s no one here.” Black moved his hand in the space I was occupying and I felt it pass through me. I shivered as my shape flickered slightly. Then I panicked. Looking back to Remus quickly, I noticed his mouth had dropped open, his gaze going from perplexed to ‘holy hell’ in less than a moment. 

“Sirius. You can’t see her?” He asked and I reached out a hand towards Remus, who darted back from me and into the snack table. 

“Uh, I don’t know what ‘her’ you’re referring to, mate. Did someone slip you those weird mushrooms Lovegood was toting around earlier?” Black was looking at Remus with caution, who was still staring at the space I occupied. As he turned to call towards Potter, thinking Remus had been slipped psychoactive drugs, I faced Remus fully. 

“Remus, look, I can explain. I’m not a hallucination.” I pleaded, but he shook his head, backing farther away from me as Potter came forward. “Remus, please, you have to believe me.”

“Mate, I think you may need to go lie down.” Potter was saying, reaching for his friend. Remus turned away from me, resolutely keeping his back towards me as I called out his name again. 

“I think you’re right,” He said, moving towards the entrance of the Room of Requirements. I stood in place, watching him leave. Then I turned my attention towards the other two Marauders. Potter was looking after Remus with a look of concern behind his wide rimmed glasses, but Black was staring right at me. I felt my breath catch as he stared a little harder, but recognition never flared in his eyes, and he looked back at Potter after a few moments more. 

“Think Moony is okay?” Potter asked his best friend, and Black shrugged, his attention falling to a blonde in a mermaid costume who was staring at him unabashedly. 

“I’ll go check on him in an hour,” Black said, despite his attention being elsewhere. James followed his line of sight and then rolled his eyes, clapping his friend on the back as they walked away from the snack table. I felt my heartrate return to normal, and then I started off towards the door to the Room of Requirements, determined to find Remus Lupin before he got too far. 

As I stalked the halls, I realized that in my exploration of the castle so far, I had never actually found the Gryffindor Common Room. It was a bit of a mystery to those who weren’t in the actual house, and I found myself stalling on a staircase as I tried to think of something. Cursing myself for not doing a more thorough explore of the different areas, I smiled as an idea popped into my head. 

“Peeves!” I called out, and waited a full ten seconds before I heard someone blow a raspberry in my ear. “Damn it,” I waved at him, my hand passing through his ghostly body as he cackled mercilessly at my shock. 

“What might I do for you, Miss G?” He asked, floating above me in a taunting manner. I resolved to work on my flight skills as I watched him, if only to shut up that smug look he was throwing me. 

“I need to find the Gryffindor Common Room.” I said, deliberately not telling him the reason why. I knew if I did, he would tease me mercilessly, trying to find out why I was chasing a boy. Peeves floated a moment longer, sobering up for a moment, before laughing again and zooming away. “Wait up!” I called after him, picking up my pace into a full run. 

We were winding down corridors, and down staircases, and then up some more and I narrowly missed slamming into a few walls before we stopped outside a picture of an extremely plump woman in a garish looking pink dress and hat. She turned her attention to us for a moment before going back to her horrible warbling. 

“Oi, open up.” Peeves called over her singing, and she looked at us with distaste.

“The only ghostly sort allowed into this Common Room is Sir Nicholas, who I must say, always treats me with the utmost respect.” She said, distaste clear in her voice. I rolled my eyes, preparing to sink through her frame when the portrait swung forward involuntarily as a few girls walked out, looking around the hallways for teachers. Peeves, distracted from our quest, started taunting their costumes as he followed them off down the hall. 

Taking advantage of her distaste for Peeves and her distraction, I slipped into the narrow tunnel before it closed completely. A short few feet and I was in the overly-bright red and gold room. The room was mostly deserted, most people choosing to spend the Halloween night at the party rather than their dorms, and I knew a smaller get together was being thrown for the younger students by the Head of Houses. I wondered if they knew about the larger more promiscuous party being thrown a few floors above them?

Focusing back on my task, I made my way over to the two staircases that I assumed led up to the dormitories. The right staircase looked brighter, and a few stairs up I could see the decorated door of a first-year dorm. Realizing that that meant the left, darker staircase was the way to the boys’ dorms, I started up, counting the numbers on the doors until I was at the one marked ‘7.’ I drew in a breath, placing my hands on the frame before thinking better of it. 

Concentrating on staying solid, I rapped my knuckles on the door three times, waiting for movement behind it. I heard footsteps coming closer, and then the door swung open. I looked into the eyes of Remus Lupin, back in sweats and a t-shirt rather than dressed like a vampire as before. His eyes widened and he went to shut the door back, when I stopped it with my foot. 

“Please, Remus, wait! I think I need to explain.” I said, pushing into the room. He fell back, trying to get away from me as fast as he could. I kept going until he was scrambling for his wand next to what I assumed was his bed. I held my hands up, unsure of whether a hex would hurt me or not. “Wait, please, I’m begging you to listen to me. You’re the first person that I’ve talked to in a long time and I just want to explain before you write me off as a hallucination and I go back to having no one to talk to but Peeves.”

I caught my breath as he continued to stare at me, his wand wavering slightly. “Who, or what, are you?” He whispered out, fear and confusion written in his voice. I sighed, running my hand through the bottom part of my hair and then tucking it behind me ear. 

“I’m a student here at Hogwarts. Or, I guess, I was,” I muttered, trying to figure out how to go about this. Giving up, I let my shoulders drop from their tensed position and sighed. “I’m a ghost, Remus.”

Laughter rang through the dorm room, and Remus sat down on his bed, running a hand through his hair and gripping his wand tighter. “I must be finally going crazy after 7 years in this school because there is no way this is happening right now.”

“It is! Please, I’m being serious. I don’t know how you can see me, but I’m a ghost. And you’re the first person that has been able to see me since I got here this summer. If you don’t believe me then you can ask Dumbledore. He’ll tell you everything, but I need you to believe me. Please.” I added again for good luck. Remus looked at me harder now, trying to wrap his head around what he was seeing. 

“Say I believe you. Say that this is actually happening and I’m crazy enough to believe you. Why can’t everyone else see you, but we can see all the other ghosts in this school? Why can’t James and Sirius see you but I can?” His eyes focused a bit more, narrowing as he started to question me. “How do I know you’re not some sick Slytherin joke designed to pull one over on me?” 

He held his wand up again, and I ran a hand over my face. “Because why would I target you over Potter and Black? Aren’t they usually the antagonizes to the snakes? And I don’t know why you can see me and no one else can. Trust me, if I knew how to make people see me I would have told Riley I was still here and not dead in the ground like she thinks I am.”

“Riley?” Remus said, his voice recognizing the name. “As in Riley Clark, the Ravenclaw seventh year?” I nod with what he’s saying, and then it’s almost like something clicks inside his brain. “Holy shit, you’re Gwen as in her best friend Gwen that died during the summer.”

“Yes,” I breathed out, feeling immense relief as he started to believe me. And then something funny happened. For the first time since I had died, I felt a small tingling running up my arm, and I shivered, almost like the cool air in the dorm room touched me for the first time. I shivered, feeling the slight breeze that was coming from the small crack in the window. I actually felt something. 

“What was that?” Remus asked, watching me with a look of amazement on his face. I looked down to find that my hands were emitting a very small glow, that had already begun to dim. The breeze on the back of my neck had dimmed as well, and I felt a sinking feeling in my gut. 

“I think that’s because you actually believe in me now.” I said, looking up at him with a small smile. “I’m not lying to you, Remus. I don’t know why you can see me, but you can, and I’m sorry that this is so selfish but I have to take advantage of it. I haven’t been seen in so long.”

Remus nodded, putting his wand on the table and running a hand through his hair. He reached over and grabbed what I realized was a sweatshirt at the end of his bed. Then he stood up. “I think we need to go see Dumbledore.”

I agreed, and followed him out of the door, feeling for the first time what it would be like for people to know I was there. My nervousness bubbled into something else, and I reached out to touch Remus’ arm in my excitement. He flinched away from my touch, and I apologized quickly. “I, well, I shouldn’t have done that.”

“No, it’s not that, it’s just that your hand was so cold.” He said, before stopping and holding his arm out towards me again. “It’s okay,” He nodded towards his arm, and I hesitantly reached out, touching him gently. A small tingle of feeling went through my fingers, and I pulled back, the grin on my face feeling excessive.

“I haven’t been able to do that to anyone in months. I don’t know how you can see me, Remus, but thank you.” I felt my eyes water, the relief of no longer being alone coursing through my body in waves. 

“Well, I think we’re about to find out.” He said, giving me a small but apprehensive smile. I resolved to stop being so creepy, realizing that all my excitement was probably causing Remus, a boy I had never met before, to feel nervous. Before I could apologize again, however, the gargoyle to Dumbledore’s office sprang aside, revealing the staircase that would lead us up to the office itself. 

As we reached the top, I heard a voice call us in, and we walked in without knowing what would happen. “Mr. Lupin,” Dumbledore said happily, standing up by a magnificent fire-red bird, that seemed almost as tall as me. “What brings you into my office at this hour?” His eyes twinkled mysteriously, and as he glanced over to me, his eyes danced even more.

“I hate to interrupt your evening, sir, but I have a couple of questions,” Remus turned to look at me then, and Dumbledore openly smiled in amusement. “About, well, about Gwen.”

“I’m sure you do, Mr. Lupin. And I’ll be more than happy to explain.” I melted into one of the chairs in front of Dumbledore’s desk, Remus taking the one next to me. “Miss Alexander came to us this past summer. She passed and her ethereal form appeared soon after.” He looked at me as if asking my permission to continue forward, which I gave quickly in a nod. 

“You see the magical world affords magical beings to remain here on this earth when it is not the soul’s time to leave. In a way, the muggle ideal of ‘unfinished business’ is not very far from the truth. In the case of Miss Alexander, however, it is different. For a ghost to be seen, they must be believed in. And I’m assuming, Mr. Lupin, that you had not met Miss Alexander before?”

Remus shook his head no. “I saw her tonight at,” Remus stopped abruptly, but Dumbledore nodded as if he already knew about the large Halloween party the Marauders were throwing. 

“Indeed. You see, Mr. Lupin, beings that possess certain magical properties have an ability to see things that have not yet come into being for many other magical folk. Such as ghosts that have not made themselves known to others, and the like.”

“Oh,” Was all Remus said, and I felt my curiosity peak. “So, because of my condition, I can see Gwen without having to have ever met her before?”

“Precisely. Now, I know it may be a lot to ask, and it may be something that you do not want to do, but you are the first student to be aware of Gwen’s presence. And I’m sure Miss Alexander would be happy with the companionship?” 

I looked at Remus, who was looking at his hands. “If you don’t want to, Remus, I completely understand. It’s a lot to comprehend.” I whispered, trying to tune out Dumbledore who was now humming to himself and unwrapping a yellow candy from a container on his desk. 

“I don’t know what to think, right now,” Remus muttered, trying to comprehend all the information that had just been laid on him. I felt a streak of disappointment, and nodded sadly. 

“Perhaps I’ll let you all discuss this matter privately? I do think it’s time for a small walk around the castle.” Dumbledore said, patting Remus on the shoulder as he stood and walked towards the door. “Fawkes?” He called, and the large bird swooped through the air, landing on his shoulder. I watched in amazement as they walked out of the room. 

“It’s enough that you know I’m here,” I whispered, and Remus looked up at me. I tried to hide the sadness in my eyes as the only person besides me professors who knew I was really there struggled to decide whether or not he would be able to acknowledge me outside of this interaction. And I felt a strange need to tell him everything; to let him know all the things about me that I couldn’t tell Riley because she wasn’t aware of my presence. To let him know that I was lonely, scared, unsure of all the things that were happening in my death. 

“We should probably get to know each other if we’re going to be friends,” Remus said with a small smile, and I felt my heart leap back into my throat at the thought of having a friend again. I nodded, trying to hide my excitement and not run Remus away with the neediness. I vowed to not latch onto him, to let him still lead a normal life, only maybe with a ghost as a friend.

“I don’t want you to do this because you feel like you have to,” I told the boy in front of me, and he shook his head. 

“I know what it feels like to be alone,” He said, and then he pushed his hand out towards mine. “Remus Lupin, Gryffindor Seventh Year.” He smiled and I couldn’t help but smile back. 

“Gwen Alexander, ghost.” We shared a laugh, and I felt something I hadn’t felt since I woke up at the bottom of the stairs, my body dead but my soul still here: hope.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Prongs, that you?” I held my breath though I knew he wouldn’t be able to hear me. And then the strangest thing happened; he thrust his hand forward, waving it around. He narrowly missed me and I stepped even closer against the railing of the landing to prevent him from touching me. “Weird.” He muttered to himself, before stepping back and closing the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own not what you know.
> 
> Author’s Note: Hello my kindly readers! I hope you all are enjoying everything so far; I know I am! Just wanted to drop by and say that I love all of you for reading, reviewing, favorite-ing, etc. It makes my day when I can open my email to see these lovely updates from you all. Thank you all for checking out each chapter, and as always, I hope that you enjoy this one as well! Can’t wait to see what you think of the new developments happening in this chapter. Enjoy, and don’t forget to leave a review if you feel so inclined!!

\--

I was meandering through the Astronomy tower, avoiding the hot spots for student extracurricular activities (it’s amazing how many snogging students used this spot), when I felt a small tug starting around the area of my navel. It tugged a little harder, and I felt my feet skid slightly along the floor. I sucked in a deep breath, feeling the air rush in and out of me without taking hold in my no longer functioning lungs, and I reached out to touch the wall, to find purchase within myself. Except, I was no longer in the Astronomy tower, and my hands grasped a four-poster bed instead. 

“How did you do that?” I whipped around, recognizing the voice. Remus was sitting on his bed, a book out in front of him, looking at me with awe tinged with a hint of fear. If I hadn’t noticed people’s expressions while I was a human, I certainly was starting to recognize subtleties as a ghost. But it could perhaps be because Remus Lupin had a terrible poker face. 

“I honestly have no idea.” I said, taking a seat on the bed next to his, crossing my legs in front of me. “One minute I was up in the Astronomy wing, and the next I’m trying to catch my breath as I appear in the Gryffindor dormitories. So, your guess is as good as mine.”

“I thought you didn’t need to breathe?” Remus asked, and I shrugged, smoothing out the bedspread in front of me. 

“I guess I don’t technically need to. But it seems to be a habit that has stuck with me; like tripping over my own feet, except now instead of smashing into the ground I sink right through it. Or even weirder, my body seems to float on its own without me falling at all.” I looked up at Remus’ face, gauging whether or not this was too much information. We’d taken to discussing certain facts of my ghost-hood, as he called it, but I was never sure what was going to send him running away from me altogether. So far, it hadn’t happened. 

Remus closed his book, getting more comfortable on his bed, and leaning against the headboard. “You might be here because I was thinking about you.” He blushed only slightly, and I couldn’t help the grin that started at the corner of my lips. “Oh, quiet down.” He said, throwing a pillow at me. Unfortunately for him, it went directly through my form, as I was concentrating more on not sinking through the bed. We paused for a minute, before erupting into laughter. 

“Remus, you do know that I’m a ghost, correct?” I laughed along with him, and it felt good to have a friend despite my current situation. 

“What I meant was that I was thinking about your situation.” He looked at me intently, and I nodded for him to go ahead. “I know I’ve been asking a lot of questions lately, but I never asked you what happened to you. I mean, how did you, you know, become a ghost?”

My hands stalled as they played with a loose bit of thread on my sweater. I chewed on the inside of my lip as I thought of whether or not to tell Remus the truth when I had barely begun to think of it on my own. How did you tell someone you’d just met that you thought that your father had caused your untimely demise? How could I just come out and say that I’d been arguing with my muggle father who hated the fact that I was a witch, and that suddenly I was sliding down the stairs, breaking my neck in the fall?

“I’m not actually sure.” I eventually said, and I felt Remus’ curious gaze on my face. I avoided his sight, taking in the room that was becoming very familiar to me. There were Quidditch posters above the bed across the room; pictures of motorcycles and scantily clad women decorating the walls of the bed I sat on; books upon books stacked next to Remus’ four-poster; and the other two beds (man did I feel bad for the fifth member of this dorm) were rather plain, with only a few photos here and there on the night stands and dressers. 

“Gwen?” Remus asked, and I noticed I had started to drift away, becoming a little less solid and a little more ‘ghost.’ “Have you ever wondered how I could see you without knowing you were there?”

My gaze shifted back to Remus, who had moved to sit on the edge of his bed, leaning forward towards me. I looked at my only human friend, staring into his golden gaze while taking in the dark circles surrounding his eyes. I had wondered, more than once, about what magical prowess Remus possessed that made him different from the rest, but I had never asked for fear of scaring him away. I stared intently at him, willing him to speak, when suddenly he sat up straight, looking away from me quickly and back to the door. 

He slid back onto his bed very quickly, and grabbed his book, opening it to a random page. I was about to ask what had happened, when the door burst open and three unruly boys tumbled in. I recognized the other three Marauder’s immediately. 

“And then I told her I wouldn’t be the go between for her crush on Sirius, and she dumped me.” Peter, the shortest of the four, with a slightly mousy appearance to his light brown hair and watery blue eyes, sighed dramatically and fell onto his bed, placing the pillow over his head. James and Sirius exchanged a look, rolling their eyes at his dramatics. 

“What did you say her name was again, Wormtail? I’ve been looking for a date to Hogsmeade next week!” Sirius teased, smirking as the pillow came flying towards him. 

“Feeling any better, Moony? I know it’s about two weeks until the next full moon.” James was talking over his shoulder, looking at Remus while simultaneously digging around in his trunk. Remus glanced over at me quickly, and I caught his gaze with a questioning look. 

He shook his head at me, and then jumped up quickly when Sirius took a running jump towards his own bed, which I had apparently been occupying for the last half-hour. I let out a shriek, deliberately making myself disappear as he flew through the air. 

“Sirius!” Remus yelled out, and the boy looked utterly confused as he landed softly on his bed, kicking his feet up and his shoes off while tucking his arms behind his thick black hair. 

“Remus!” He mocked, giving his friend a confused look. 

“Uhm, nevermind,” Remus said, blushing as he took a seat back on his bed, where I had reappeared. Sirius continued to look at Remus, but finally shrugged off his seemingly odd behavior in favor of turning his attention to James, who was now holding a rather raggedy looking piece of parchment and a liquid silver cloak. I recognized both immediately after my immense training on the Marauders that Peeves had insisted I did.

“Well boys, I’m off for a bit of mischief. Evans has rounds tonight with that Hufflepuff Diggory and I can’t let a little man like that step on my chances.” James grinned, flicking a hand through his mop of brown hair, and pushing his slipping glasses back up his aristocratic nose. 

“Don’t get caught this time, Prongs. She’ll be the death of you, you know.” Peter said from his spot on the bed. His words, however, were dampened by the look of absolute respect shining through his eyes towards the very obvious leader of this group. 

“Only if she doesn’t see the error of her ways.” James said, laughing as he walked out the door, shutting it loudly behind him. I rolled my eyes, trying to figure out how someone so loud could be as stealthy as he was. There were many a time where I had run into Potter in the corridors, though he didn’t realize I was there, and he had been very quiet indeed while stalking the fiery red-haired Lily Evans. 

As Sirius pulled a magazine out from his bag, and Peter started to complain about some essay or another for History of Magic, I stood from my spot on the bed. Remus’ gaze went towards mine, and he smiled slightly. I realized that our time together now would be cut short, as he couldn’t really talk to thin air without arising suspicion, so I waved goodbye while walking over to the door. 

Unthinkingly, I grabbed the handle, wrenching open the wood before I stopped. All three Marauders were staring at the open doorway, although only one saw me. I cursed myself for being so unthinking, and froze completely when Sirius jumped up to shut the door back. I forced myself to move as he walked closer, and I had just made it over the threshold to the landing when he looked out the door and directly at me. 

“Prongs, that you?” I held my breath though I knew he wouldn’t be able to hear me. And then the strangest thing happened; he thrust his hand forward, waving it around. He narrowly missed me and I stepped even closer against the railing of the landing to prevent him from touching me. “Weird.” He muttered to himself, before stepping back and closing the door.

I let out a sigh of relief as I heard him respond to Peter, and then question Remus again about the full moon, this time with a more sincere tone of voice. Running a hand over my face, I closed my eyes, focusing on the Room of Requirements so that I would appear in my little nook. I was tired, though I didn’t know how that was possible, and I really wanted to lie down. 

Opening my eyes, I pulled my hair down from its tight ponytail, curling up in front of the fire on the lounge that had appeared before me. Closing my eyes, I let myself drift in the ether, dreamless, neither a part of this world or the next. 

\--

Wandering through the library, I sent a slight nod to the Bloody Baron, who tipped his head at me, the chains he wore around his body tinkling. A few of the students in the room looked up, and I continued on, knowing they couldn’t see me and slowly but surely getting used to that idea. I had spent the day casually spying on James Potter, who had been casually spying on Lily Evans. 

I smiled to myself when I thought about how protective he was over her. She had been on another date with Amos Diggory, and James had been none-too-happy with that fact. Although, and I was happy to see, he had kept his thoughts and feelings to himself, content to hide under the cloak as he watched from afar. And I had felt a little bad for him, as earlier that day during a Head’s meeting, Lily had waxed poetic about how soft Amos’ lips were, so I had knocked over a bucket of mop water, thoroughly drenching Amos and affectively ending their date. 

James had been so pleased with himself that he’d almost given away his position.

Now, I was wandering the library shelves, wondering what to do with the rest of my day. Remus and I usually met up after he was finished with classes, when he would tell his friends he was going to study or to have a pre-dinner nap. James was usually with either Sirius, when he wasn’t with a girl, or Peter, when he wasn’t in the kitchens; but today he had mentioned something else he had to do, and I was left to spend my afternoon alone. 

Sighing to myself, I rounded the corner, and paused as I stumbled upon a rather familiar looking boy. Bent over a piece of parchment, Sirius Black peered around the corner of the bookshelf, and then rifled through a few more pages in the book his was holding. I stepped forward quietly, trying to get a better look at the book. 

Sinking down to the ground where Sirius was sitting, I creeped very slowly closer, hoping he wouldn’t sense that I was there. It was something very strange about the boy beside me that I hadn’t noticed before, but he was extremely observant. Small things here or there, and he would suddenly look up, seeming to stare almost directly at me before looking away, shaking himself as if to say, ‘no, you’re not crazy.’ I hadn’t figured out why yet, but it was something I was very curious about. 

Finally close enough, I looked down at the page of the book in front of me, noticing it was for a rather new, and as yet not very researched potion. “Wolfsbane,” I muttered, before realizing I had said it out loud. Sirius’ head popped up, swinging to the map before he slammed the book shut and stood. He rounded a corner, with me hot on his trail, before he ran almost directly into Remus. 

“Padfoot,” Remus started before noticing me right behind his taller friend. I waved my hands in a ‘stop’ motion frantically, but Sirius had already turned around, trying to figure out what Remus was staring at. 

“Moony,” Sirius said, then he stopped, running a hand through his impeccably styled hair, mussing it up and gathering a few stares from a group of younger girls in the corner. Effectively distracted, he threw them a small smirk before turning back to Remus. “I think the maps gone buggy again. It keeps popping up with a name but there’s no one ever there.”

“Maybe I could take a look?” Remus said, as nonchalantly as possible, and I tensed up as Sirius gave him a questioning look. 

“Unless you know a girl named Gwen, I don’t know how much help you can be,” He held the map a little closer to his chest, and I remembered Peeves telling me that Sirius had done most of the work that had gone into it. I was amazed for a moment at his magical prowess before I got back to the matter at hand. “I don’t mean that to be offensive.” He said hastily as Remus nodded. 

“Yes, well, maybe it’s just gone a bit screwy; needing an update or something?” Remus asked, and Sirius nodded. Then he seemed to change topics all together.

“By the way, I found the book we were looking for the other night. The spell and potion are relatively new though; I’m not sure how much research has been done on the matter.” Sirius handed the book over to Remus, who quickly hid it in his bag. I tried to catch a glance at the title, but didn’t see enough. 

“Thanks, Pads. We’ll have a look on it when we get back to the Dorms later?” Remus asked, and he nodded. 

“I should be off. Try to figure out what’s going on with this old thing.” Sirius held up the map, then tucked it away into his robes pocket. “See you at dinner.” With one last glance around, he stalked out of the library, sending a few heavy-lidded glances to a few of his more recent girlfriends. 

“Gwen,” I heard a whisper, and I refocused my attention on Remus who was walking back towards a more secluded part of the library. 

“I swear, I think Sirius knows that I’m here but I don’t know how. He’s not clairvoyant, is he?” I asked as soon as we were out of earshot of anyone else. 

“Sirius isn’t psychic. He’s just observant. And with your name popping up on the map so often, he’s probably just wondering if he’s going crazy.” Remus rubbed a hand across his face, looking more tired than usual. 

“I seem to have that effect on people,” I laughed, the looked at my friend. “And where have you been all afternoon, Mr. Lupin?”

Remus’ face flushed pink, and I tried hard not to stare in confusion. “I had a date.” I was taken aback slightly as Remus’ ears went red as well. 

“A date?” I asked, feeling slightly light-headed. It was strange, the feelings I was experiencing at the moment, and I tried to think of all the women I had seen Remus with in the last five weeks of knowing him. “Who with?”

“Uh, Dorcas Meadows.” Remus looked down at his shoes, and I immediately recalled the face of the girl in the Ravenclaw dorms with the smooth brown skin and expressive hazel eyes. 

“Oh.” It was all I could think of to say, and Remus just nodded, leaving the silence between us to linger. “Was it nice?” I asked, feeling the pit in my stomach growing a bit deeper. 

“It was.” His answer was short, but the happiness in his voice was enough. 

“Well, that’s good then.” I pushed off the desk in front of me, feeling stranger than I had in a while. “Listen, I told the Grey Lady I’d speak with her about the Bloody Baron so I best be off.”

“Gwen, wait.” Remus said, but I had already disappeared, finding myself in the Room of Requirements before I had even had time to think. 

\--


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "And it was stupid to admit, for all intents and purposes I was dead, but I didn’t want him to dislike me either. "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note: So, it’s been longer than I originally intended with this one. But I couldn’t really focus my thoughts on where I wanted to go with it, so if it seems a little stilted or maybe stalled in some way, just know that the next chapter is going to be much, much better. This one is more a transition, and I’m not super happy with it, but I thought I’d put it out there in hope that once it’s out there I’ll be able to write the next chapter which is when stuff will really kick off and the story will start in earnest. Anywho, hopefully it’s not totally unreadable, and let me know your thoughts on it! Onwards!

Ghost: Chapter Seven

Having been a ghost for such a short time, I had gotten relatively good at appearing and disappearing when and where I wanted to. It was almost like apparating, which I had never gotten to try, but had always watched others do in envy. As it were, I much preferred what I was doing now, even though it meant I was dead; no particularly nasty feeling or vomiting afterwards. Although, I didn’t even know if I could do that, seeing as I hadn’t eaten anything in over five months. 

Back to my original point. I had successfully avoided Remus over the last two weeks, finding that focusing against the pull I would naturally feel every time he deliberately thought about me and tried to have me appear before him. I had an uncanny ability of knowing exactly where he was whenever he thought about me, and I had gotten quite accurate at appearing somewhere completely opposite of where he wanted me to be. As such, I hadn’t really had much human contact in a while. 

Figuring that it would be fine if I popped into the boys’ dorms, because I knew for a fact that Remus was trying to ‘summon’ me to the library, to see what James was up to, one of my favorite past times as I found myself rooting for him in his fight to gain the affections of Lily Evans, I focused on the four-poster bed I had so often sat on, and when I opened my eyes I saw that instead of landing on an unoccupied bed, I had sat directly on top of one of the Marauders. 

“What the hell?” Sirius jumped up from his bed, where he had been sitting, pointing his wand at the Marauder’s Map and trying, unsuccessfully, to fix something that wasn’t broken. I had landed on top of him, sinking through his body and leaving him feeling like he had been doused in something cold and slimy. An unfortunate aftermath of me being a ghost meant that the form others would see of me, would always be gray and cold. 

Sirius wiped at his arms while I tried to decide whether or not it was time for me to bolt. I didn’t get the chance, however, as I became distracted by the way my name was glowing bright red on the Map. “What?” I breathed out, seeing my name become darker the closer I leaned in. It was almost like I was being drawn to the magic radiating off the map. Then, suddenly, my name stopped glowing and became a solid black again, almost as if the map was trying to erase me but couldn’t because I was still there. 

“I don’t know what the hell is going on, but I’m completely sure that I’m not going crazy, so if you could just come out wherever you are, I won’t be angry.” Sirius was saying, watching the happenings of the Map as well. I looked up at him, standing from the bed, my heart seemingly beating 100 miles a minute. 

Deciding the best offense was a good defense, I disappeared to the kitchens, frightening a few House Elves with my sudden presence. I took a deep breath, feeling the air rush through my ethereal body before it left again, seeming to seep from my pores. I tried to wrap my head around what was happening, not knowing what to do or if I should reveal myself to Sirius, but suddenly I wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed with a cup of tea, and tell Riley everything that had been happening. 

There was something about Sirius that I wasn’t sure about; I should have been thrilled with someone knowing I was still here, even though I wasn’t fully alive or dead. But something seemed kind of off about it, almost like revealing myself was too personal for someone that I had never known before. Not that I had known Remus before either, but he seemed safer somehow, even with the feelings of turmoil rifling through me whenever I thought about him and Dorcas Meadows. 

I had staunchly ignored those feelings, just as I had ignored Remus, but I couldn’t help but think on them now. When I had been alive I hadn’t been the most sought-after girl in Hogwarts by any means. I had had one kiss in third year, to a Hufflepuff on a dare from Riley and the other girls in the dorms that had set me up on an unfortunate Hogsmeade date; it was slimy, wet, and something I never wanted to experience again. After that I’d had crushes, sure, but nothing had ever come to fruition, and I was happy to help Riley prepare for dates and gossip with her afterwards. 

Now, however, the thought of Dorcas and Remus, or Remus with any other girl for that matter, made my stomach ache. Did this mean that I had an unfortunate crush on someone I now considered a best friend? Or was I just lonely and upset that the only person my age that could see me would be spending time with someone else?

As I worried, I felt the cool breeze run through me that usually meant I was losing my solid form and becoming more and more ghostly. Dumbledore had told me on numerous occasions to not turn towards that side of my new life, to not be coaxed into the complete ethereal, where I would lose my form and drift forever, but at the moment it didn’t seem like too bad of an idea. 

My dark thoughts were cut short, however, by a very flustered Sirius Black running through the door of the kitchen, holding the Marauder’s Map aloft like it held all the answers in the universe. He stalked forward, right until he was in front of me where he reached out his hand. I held my breath.

“Okay, I don’t know what kind of shit you’re pulling, but if you have an invisibility cloak on, then I want you to reveal yourself to me.” He pulled his arm back, as if giving me time to reveal myself. I tried not to laugh at the absolutely absurdity he had to be feeling at the moment. 

He let out a sigh, and then as all the House Elves fluttered around him asking if he needed anything or if there was anything they could do for him, he stuck his hand out and made a grabbing motion. I felt his hand go through my neck, a strange sensation passing through me, and I rhythmically swallowed to get rid of it. Sirius pulled his hand back quickly, looking at it like he’d grabbed a handful of flobberworms. 

The look on his face was enough to make me laugh, and he focused on the air in front of him, like he had heard it. “Gwen?” He asked, almost like he was testing the word on his tongue. I stiffened, watching as Sirius looked at the House Elves at his feet. “Is she a ghost?”

An elf with big eyes and the longest ears I’d ever seen looked between Sirius and I, trying to decide who to address first. In a moment of madness, or maybe it was something else, I nodded at her, trying to find my voice to speak. “Tell him I’m here.”

“Master Black, Missus Alexander would like me to tell you that she is a ghost.” The elf looked very pleased with herself, and I couldn’t help the grin that started over my face like wildfire. 

Sirius looked shocked, and he stumbled backwards to sit ungracefully on a bench. “So, I’m not going crazy then.” He muttered to himself. I walked over to where he was sitting, taking the seat next to him, arranging myself so that I was sitting cross-legged. “Can you ask her why I can’t see her?”

The elf looked back at me, thankful to have a job other than cooking for the students. “He has to believe in me. I don’t know how that works.” I shrugged, and the elf relayed the information back to him. 

He tugged a hand through his hair, looking back at the map in his hand. “I’m not sure how to do that.” I nodded, even though he couldn’t see me, and the look of confusion on his face was so much that I had to laugh. His head whipped around and he looked where I was again, even though he couldn’t see me. “I can hear you, though, sometimes.”

“Uhm,” I looked at the elf, and then paused. “I don’t know your name yet; I’m sorry.”

“Oh, Missus, it’s Mitzy. I should have told you earlier.” The elf started to walk away going towards a very large looking pot, and my eyes widened. Jumping up, I grabbed it before she could drop it onto herself. Sirius watched as the pot held seemingly suspended in midair. 

“Please don’t do that,” I said, anxious as to whether or not she could seriously hurt herself. “It’s fine, I promise.” 

The elf, Mitzy, looked at me with wide eyes, tears brimming to make them look even bigger. Before I could stop her, she scurried away into one of the cupboards. I watched her go, feeling helpless as to what was going on. I sighed, then turned and realized that Sirius had walked up closer to where I was standing; he was looking at the pot, reaching out his hand almost to take it from me. Before he could touch me again, however, I put the pot back on the stove and he jumped back. 

I tried to think of a way to talk to him, now that the House Elves were avoiding me. Spotting a bowl with a spoon, I smiled to myself, hearing one of my Father’s many girlfriends telling me it was wrong to play with your food. Grabbing the spoon, I dripped ketchup onto the table, hoping the House Elves wouldn’t be too upset with me. 

“Get Remus.” Sirius read out loud, and I was proud of my handiwork, thinking that we would have this solved soon. But the curious boy wasn’t quite ready to let it go yet. “Why would I get Remus?” He questioned to his right, which made me laugh some, as I was sitting on his left. 

“He knows.” I spelled out again, and Sirius’ head cocked to the side. Without warning, he stood quickly from the bench, and started off towards the portrait to the hallway. I smiled, letting myself drift to the direction of Remus, and when I opened my eyes I found myself in the presence of all the rest of the Marauder’s in their dormitory. 

Remus looked both startled at my presence, and happy to see me. “Sirius is going to come bursting in here at any second. He knows I’m here, but he can’t see me.” I blathered quickly, while Remus put his book down and looked over at where James and Peter seemed engrossed over a Quidditch magazine. 

“What do you want me to do?” Remus asked, keeping his voice quiet although it didn’t seem like it would have mattered as Peter and James weren’t paying a bit of attention to him. 

“I don’t know. Can I trust him?” I asked, feeling like I already knew the answer, but wanting confirmation of it from Remus all the same. It struck me that this was the first time we had talked after almost constant contact, and I felt like I was going to burst or cave into myself to have someone my own age and species to talk to again. I loved the House Elves, but there was only so much they could relate to. 

“I do,” Remus said, as if that explained everything. And it kind of did. I wasn’t sure exactly why Remus could see me, or what magical secret he possessed, but if he trusted Sirius with it, then I could trust him with mine as well. It seemed silly but I was nervous about others knowing who I was. I hadn’t come up with a good excuse as to why I was still here, why I was stuck between worlds, and the more people that knew the more people would question me. 

And it was stupid to admit, for all intents and purposes I was dead, but I didn’t want him to dislike me either. 

I opened my mouth to speak, but Sirius burst in right on time, holding the Map aloft in his hand. He looked around at his friends, and Peter and James looked startled at his sudden triumphant stance. 

“What’s going on, Pads? I swear if you were pranking without us again,” Peter trailed off, abandoning James in favor of Sirius. 

James rolled up his magazine and placed it on his bedside table, turning his attention to Sirius as well. Once he was sure everyone was paying attention, he unfurled the many pages of the map, settling on the page he needed at that moment. 

“Brace yourselves, gentlemen, for I am about to blow your minds.” Remus rolled his eyes at Sirius’ antics, but I felt giddy with excitement. “There is nothing wrong with my map, as I figured there wouldn’t be, and there is a ghost among us.”

James and Peter at least had the decency to try and muffle their laughter, but it was soon too strong to contain and with mirth in their eyes, they threw pillows and socks at Sirius through their tears of laughter. 

“Padfoot, you have officially gone mental. Did someone slip something into your dinner again? I told you to stop taking strange gifts from your more affectionate admirers!” James was rolling on his bed now, doubled over in laughter at the dejected look on Sirius’ face. 

“A ghost among us? Really, Sirius,” Peter said, double checking that he wasn’t truly hurting Sirius’ feelings before he continued his laughter.

Sirius looked at his two best friends, rejection clear on his face, and then his eyes lit up when he looked over at Remus. “Tell them, Moony, as I’m pretty sure you know more that you’ve been letting on.”

Remus looked towards me, and I nodded my head in agreement. Running a hand over his face, he sighed before looking around to his friends. “I know that this is going to sound incredibly crazy, but Sirius isn’t wrong.” Ignoring Sirius shout of excitement, Remus pressed on. “Back at Halloween, I bumped into a girl at our party, only to find out when you all came up to me, that she wasn’t actually there.”

“I remember that. We thought you had taken Magic Mushrooms again.” James giggled like a schoolgirl at the blush staining Remus’ cheeks, and I desperately wanted to know that story. 

“Yes, well, I wasn’t. And I soon found out that she was real, just that she wasn’t here. She’s a ghost, and her name is Gwen.” Remus stopped, looking to where Sirius bounced back and forth like he was about to boil over. 

“And according to the map, she’s here right now.” Sirius held up the paper, where my name was glowing in deep red.


End file.
